


A New Hope

by AliciaSinCiudad



Series: Rebuilding [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, SPOILER - I mean it about everyone lives/nobody dies, TW: Mention of addiction, The New City of Jedha, tw: suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-06 22:24:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10345824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliciaSinCiudad/pseuds/AliciaSinCiudad
Summary: Cassian and Bodhi struggle to adjust to post-war life. Trauma and pain can blind you to how you harm the ones you love. Hope can be found in unexpected places.





	1. The Eye of the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited August 2018.

It was strange, Bodhi mused, coming back to his room and knowing that he would find Cassian there. That he would _always_ find Cassian there. That he would still be there in the morning, every morning, without fail. There were no more missions, no more battles. No more sleepless nights spent worrying uselessly. No more mornings waking up feeling guilty for _not_ having worried uselessly.

Cassian was safe. Bodhi was safe. The world they lived on was safe.

It was nice, of course. Bodhi wasn’t complaining. It was just strange. After so many years of chaos and war, he just wasn’t used to calm. The false calm of the eye of the storm, yes. Real calm, no.

Bodhi opened the door to his room, and, sure enough, Cassian was there. He sat on the floor, his back propped up against the bed, a small purple capsule in his hand.

Bodhi’s heart stilled. “Cassian?” he breathed.

Cassian’s head snapped up, his expression half-way between guilt and fear, as he clamped his hand shut. “What do you want?”

“Er, n-nothing.” Bodhi smiled gently, hoping his tone passed for casual despite the sudden tightness in his chest. “I was just wondering what that pill is?”

“What pill?” Cassian asked irritably. “What are you talking about?”

“The pill you’re holding,” Bodhi responded, careful to keep his tone even. He knew Cassian was being irritable on purpose, to distract him. He was a spy, after all, albeit a retired one. Bodhi approached Cassian slowly, trying not to feel hurt when Cassian flinched as he sat next to him. “I’ve already seen it, there’s no point to denying it.” He put an arm around his partner’s shoulders, feeling the tension in them but refusing to pull away. “I’m not accusing you of anything, Cassian. I just want to know.”

“It’s nothing,” Cassian muttered to the floor.

“If it’s nothing, then you can tell me what it is.” Bodhi felt the too-familiar pit of worry forming in his stomach.

“It’s medicine,” Cassian replied, still not meeting his eyes.

“What’s it for?” It was easier to keep the panic out of his voice if he kept his sentences short. Cassian didn’t respond right away. He clearly hadn’t thought his lie out this far.

Bodhi had been a pilot in the Rebel Alliance, and for the Empire before that. He knew what kind of “medicine” people took to deal with stress and to bury their demons. Yet, somehow, he’d never thought it would happen to Cassian. Despite everything he’d gone through, Cassian had always seemed so strong, so steady. But of course, it was the ones who _always_ seemed strong and steady that you had to worry about. It took a lot of energy to _seem_ fine, leaving less available for actually processing the trauma.

Bodhi leaned his head on Cassian’s shoulder. Cassian stiffened even further, as though waiting in dread for Bodhi to discover his secret. “Cassian, really, I’m not angry with you,” Bodhi reassured him. “And you don’t have to be ashamed. I just want to help you.” He breathed deeply, then took the plunge. “If you’re struggling with addiction, I’ll be there for you. All the way. We can beat this together.”

At the mention of addiction, Cassian blinked, then suddenly relaxed. “How did you know?” he whispered.

“I’ve seen this before,” Bodhi replied sadly. “You won’t be the first person I help through withdrawal.” He unwrapped his arms from around Cassian, and held out a hand. “Now give me the pill.” Cassian didn’t move, but Bodhi held firm. “Please, Cassian. I won’t get rid of it right away. I promise. I’ll just put it somewhere safe.”

“Who else did you help?”

“A good friend.”

“A lover?”

Bodhi caught himself before replying. Cassian was distracting him on purpose. Again. “The pill,” he repeated.

Cassian shook his head. Then he looked Bodhi straight in the eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said with exaggerated sincerity. “I’m not gonna use it.”

Bodhi shook his head, unfazed. “No, Cassian. We both know how this works. Just give me the pill.” When Cassian still made no move, he added, “You know I won’t let up until you do.” Cassian sighed, and finally handed Bodhi the pill. Bodhi slipped it into his jacket, then stood up. “Stay here, love. I’ll go find a good place for it. Then, why don’t we go for a walk?” He hoped his insecurity didn’t bleed through that last question. Truth be told, Bodhi had no desire to go for a walk. It was getting late, and the evenings tended to get chilly. But the fresh air would probably be good for Cassian, and if nothing else, the change of scenery would be a temporary distraction.

Out in the common room, Baze and Chirrut were drinking tea and chatting. It struck Bodhi that it had been mere moments ago that he’d passed them on the way to his bedroom. They probably hadn’t even changed the topic of conversation, but it already felt so long ago, in the before-he-knew-Cassian-was-an-addict time. Another lifetime.

“Everything alright?” Chirrut asked, turning toward Bodhi.

Bodhi had met Chirrut five years ago, shortly after he'd defected from the Empire. They’d fought together on the Battle of Scarif, had recovered from the aftermath together, and had managed to run into each other a number of times during the next year or so. Unfortunately, over the course of the war, the two had lost touch. But Chirrut had always had a special place in Bodhi’s heart, along with Baze, Jyn, and Cassian.

Especially Cassian. They had spent a little over a year as a couple, or as much of a couple as you could be when one person could never tell the other where he was going, or even  _if_  he was going somewhere half of the time. Still, while he knew that their relationship was unsustainable, Bodhi had never stopped thinking of him fondly.

When the end of the war was officially announced, the first thing Bodhi did was search to find if Cassian Andor was still alive, and searching for Chirrut, Baze, and Jyn had been a close second. After a joyful reunion, the five had decided to throw their lot together again, and had moved out to the outer rim of the galaxy, trying to adjust to post-war life. Bodhi’s adjustment involved giving him and Cassian another chance. Apparently, Cassian’s involved chemical dependence.

“Yeah, uh, everything’s fine,” Bodhi replied, unconvincing even to his own ears. There was no way he could hide the pill while Baze and Chirrut were around. He supposed he could just keep it in his pocket for the moment, and then hide it that night while Cassian was asleep. He stayed a few minutes to chat with the two monks before returning into his and Cassian’s room, so it wouldn’t be too obvious that he hadn’t hidden the pill. He noticed Baze’s heavy gaze, Chirrut’s careful listening, but he said nothing about Cassian’s situation. After all, it wasn’t his story to tell.

 

 

Bodhi wished he’d worn a heavier jacket. The one he’d been wearing when he pocketed the pill in was fine for mid-day or early afternoon, but they were coming up on sunset, and Bodhi was starting to feel the chill. He found himself jealous of Cassian’s fur-lined parka.

“You’re shivering, Bodhi. Are you cold?” Cassian sidled up to Bodhi.

Bodhi smiled. Even with the specter of withdrawal looming ahead of him, Cassian still thought about Bodhi’s comfort. “I’m fine,” he replied, but secretly hoped that Cassian would put his arms around him anyway. Which he did. Bodhi’s smile deepened as Cassian slid his hands over him, down his arms, into his pockets…

“Hey!” Bodhi jumped away. “What are you doing?”

Cassian laughed, exasperated. “Come on, Bodhi, what’s the problem? I’m just trying to give you a hug.” He attempted a smile, but he looked hurt.

“With your hands in my pockets?” Bodhi steeled his aching heart, refusing to give in to Cassian’s sad-little-boy expression.

“Why not?” Cassian asked innocently. “Do you have something you don’t want me to find?”

“Fuck off, Cassian,” Bodhi choked.

Cassian shook his head, all the softness gone from his expression. “You’d make a terrible spy, you know. It was stupid enough to keep the pill in your pocket, but to show your hand so easily?”

“I’m not the only one who showed his hand,” Bodhi shot back. He glared at Cassian. “You’re walking in front of me the rest of the way. Two paces ahead.”

“Come on, don’t be like this.” That sad, pleading look was back, as though it had never left.

“Go.”

Bodhi’s heart was pounding. He knew he should be patient with Cassian, but he felt furious. He took a deep breath. If he was going to be angry with anyone, it should be with himself. How could he have been so stupid, so easily fooled? He had almost let Cassian reach it…

Cassian wasn’t trying to be an asshole, Bodhi reminded himself. He was acting out of survival instinct, even if that instinct had been twisted to protect a habit that harmed him. Still, Bodhi could forgive Cassian without trusting him. He ignored the longing looks Cassian shot at him, and ignored his own strong desire to hold Cassian and tell him he loved him, that he’d always be there for him. That could come later, after he’d hidden the damned pill.

They walked for another few minutes in silence. Then Cassian stopped. Bodhi stopped too, maintaining the distance between them. “You’re cold,” Cassian said softly.

“Don’t even think about–”

“I’m not gonna try anything,” Cassian interrupted. “But you’re shivering, and it’s my fault, because you came out here to help me. Just – take my parka, will you?”

“I’m not coming within arm’s reach of you.”

“I promise you, I won’t try anything!”

“Cassian, I’m not an idiot!” Bodhi took a deep breath and unclenched his jaw. Getting angry at Cassian wasn’t going to help him. He softened his voice. “I don’t think you’re a bad person, Cassian. But you’re not making good decisions right now. I love you, don’t ever doubt that for a moment, and my love is not diminished by what you’re going through. I think you’re brave, and I think you’re strong. And you need to keep two paces ahead of me.”

“But you’re  _shivering,_ ” Cassian pleaded.

Bodhi bit back a curse. He  _was_  shivering. It was damned cold. But they were almost home. And anyway, what kind of a person would allow his boyfriend – his boyfriend who was about to embark on the harrowing journey of withdrawal – to go without a jacket so that he could wear two? “I’m fine, Cassian. We’re almost home. And you need it more than I do.”

Cassian shook his head. He took off his parka and held it out. If Bodhi stretched his arm out far enough, he could reach it without getting any closer to Cassian. And then Cassian could use it to pull him in closer. No thank you. He looked away from those deep, sad eyes that threatened to drown him.

“Please just keep walking.”

Cassian held his arm out for a few more moments, then let it drop, defeated. He folded up the parka and placed it on the ground, then started walking again. Bodhi picked up the parka. There was no way to give it back to Cassian without catching up with him. They were almost home, he told himself, Cassian would be fine. He slipped it on. It didn’t quite close over Bodhi’s jacket. It was warm from Cassian’s body, and it smelled like him. Bodhi felt overwhelmed by love and fear, just for a moment. Then he continued walking.

 

 

By the time they got home, Cassian was the one who was shivering. Bodhi would not allow himself to feel guilty. There hadn’t been a safe way to give Cassian his parka back. Bodhi would just have to take extra care of him now.

“Right then. Hot shower.”

“Coming with?” Cassian sounded more insecure than flirtatious.

Bodhi swallowed. Of course he wanted to. But this was probably the best chance he’d get to hide the pill. He shook his head. “I’ll see you in bed. Take your time.”

Cassian nodded, chagrined. “Right. Thank you.”

“Of course.” The instinct to hug Cassian was so strong, Bodhi barely managed to stop himself in time. “Go on now.”

“I’m going.”

As Cassian headed to the fresher, Bodhi made his way to the kitchen. He put on the kettle, hoping a cup of tea would help him figure out what to do with the damned thing. He sat down in a daze, pulled out the capsule, and stared at it. It was such a pretty purple color, unlike any pill he’d ever seen before. He wondered what it did. It was probably an upper, to keep Cassian going long after he should have gone to sleep. Cassian never did sleep enough.

Bodhi caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and he quickly shut his hand. He shuddered, realizing he was mirroring Cassian’s actions from an hour ago. He looked up, half-expecting to see Cassian, but saw Jyn instead.

“What’s that?” she asked, frowning.

“Nothing.” He bit his lip. Was he going to repeat the whole scene, line for line?

“I already saw the pill, Bodhi. Hand it over.” Bodhi closed his hand tighter, and Jyn sighed. “Just hand it over. I don’t want to have to fight you.” Bodhi realized there was no point in holding out. Maybe it was best for him not to know where the pill was either, so Cassian couldn’t force it out of him. He opened up his hand, and handed the capsule to Jyn. He saw her face go pale. “By the Order of the Jedi, is this a Lullaby?”

Bodhi nodded, not looking at Jyn. Lullaby? Probably not an upper, then.

“Yeah. I, uh, I have trouble sleeping sometimes.”

“You take a  _Lullaby pill_  to help you sleep?” She looked incredulous.

“Sometimes?” Bodhi fidgeted, hoping he looked more embarrassed than afraid.

“How often?” Jyn narrowed her eyes.

“N-not often. I used to do it more. I, uh, I picked up the habit working for the Empire? But even with the Rebellion – you know, old habits die hard.” Bodhi couldn’t stop the words from flowing. He hoped he was _just_ coherent enough to convince Jyn that he was the one with the addiction. No point in betraying Cassian’s trust if he didn’t need to. “Lots of sleepless nights, you know. I – sometimes I would take them every night. Just to block out the nightmares. But I’m not so bad now.”

Jyn nodded slowly. “I see,” she said evenly.

Bodhi barreled on. “I – maybe you should hide the pill, though? So I – so I don’t have a relapse. It’s kind of a temptation. Sometimes.” He shrugged, staring pointedly at the ground. So he didn’t see Jyn’s face, just saw the pill hitting the ground and her heel smashing it. Bodhi felt sick. He had wanted to hold onto that last pill, in case Cassian needed to be weaned off gradually. He forced himself to look at Jyn.

“You’ll thank me for this,” she said tonelessly, her face completely blank. The kettle whistled, and she turned off the flame. Bodhi had no desire for tea, and at the same time, he desperately wanted something to do with his hands, something to do with his mouth to keep himself from babbling again.

“Hey, you two. Enough water for me, too?” Cassian was wrapped in a towel, his hair wet and his skin beaded with water.

“Go put on pyjamas,” Bodhi told him automatically. “You’ll catch cold.” Because clearly it mattered if Cassian caught cold, given how sick he would become over the next few days.

“Did you know, Cassian,” Jyn spoke as though she hadn’t heard Bodhi, “that your boyfriend has an addiction to Lullaby pills?”

Cassian froze.

“During the war, he used to take them nearly every night.” She looked Cassian dead in the eye. “It’s a wonder he’s still alive.”

“Jyn…” Cassian started, then faltered.

“What I’m wondering is _,_  where would a starpilot get a Lullaby? A spy, however…”

“Th-they’re mine,” Bodhi insisted shakily.

“They?” Jyn asked. “I only saw the one.” She kept her eyes on Cassian the whole time. “After all, it only takes one, doesn’t it Cassian?”

Suddenly, it dawned on Bodhi exactly what he’d had in his pocket. Cassian had said he had an addiction…

No. Bodhi had asked if he’d had an addiction, and Cassian had said yes. Latched on to a plausible cover story, fraught enough that it would explain his reluctance to talk, but far less worrisome than the truth.

“Where’s the pill?” Cassian asked.

Jyn nodded, something like a smirk on her face, but without any joy or satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”

Bodhi swallowed.

“Where is it?” Cassian repeated, more insistently.

“It’s gone, Cassian,” Jyn replied. Bodhi could just barely detect the repressed fury in her voice. “I've destroyed it. For fuck’s sake, what were you doing with a suicide pill?”

“It’s normal, all spies of my station have one. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices to protect information.” Cassian couldn’t meet Jyn’s eyes.

“You’re not on active duty,” she pointed out flatly. “The war is over.”

“The war is never over,” Cassian answered softly, his eyes losing focus.

Bodhi placed a hand on his bare shoulder. “Go get dressed for bed. I’ll meet you in our room.”

Cassian nodded resignedly and left. Bodhi stared at the table, unable to look at Jyn, unable to think about anything. If he had come into that room a little later, if Cassian had managed to get his pill back… Over the past month, he had grown used to Cassian being a constant, and he couldn’t stand the thought of anything otherwise.

“Jyn,” he said, barely above a whisper. “How did you know?”

“You clearly had no idea what it was.” Jyn’s voice was even, as though describing the weather. “Besides, like I mentioned, you wouldn’t have access to a Lullaby. Cassian would.”

“How did _you_ know what it was? Did you – did you used to…” He couldn’t finish the question.

“You’re forgetting who raised me.”

How could he forget?

“I told you you’d thank me.”

Bodhi was not going to cry. It wouldn’t help anything. He was going to get angry instead. “Did you have to fuck with me like that, though?”

“I had to find out whether you knew what it was. Clearly, the name meant nothing to you.”

Everything she said was logical, but Bodhi couldn’t let his anger go. “Did you have to fuck with Cassian, too?”

“I wanted him to know that you hadn’t ratted him out.” She paused, thoughtful. “And I guess I was angry. How _dare_ he?” Suddenly, the feigned indifference gave way to barely-contained rage. “After all this time, the war’s finally over, and he pulls this shit? We’ve lost so many, we don’t need to lose him, too.” She took a deep breath, then let a calm expression settle on her face again. It was almost convincing. “How did you find the pill, anyway?”

“He was holding it when I came into our room.”

“Did he look like he was going to…?” She trailed off.

“He was just holding it, looking at it. I don’t know.” Bodhi stood up suddenly. “He shouldn’t be alone, should he?”

“No,” Jyn agreed. “You go after him, and I’ll tell the others. We’ll take turns watching over him. And before you start worrying about betraying Cassian’s confidence, just think about what’s at stake here.”

“No, I know, you’re right. I’ll go take my shift.”

“Don’t fall asleep until someone else gets there.”

“Right.” Bodhi nodded. “Oh, and please knock before you enter. I think Cassian and I need to have a serious talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was editing another story in this series, and decided to just go back and edit the whole series. _It will take a week,_ I thought, _two at most._ Multiple weeks later, I have now finished editing the first fic.
> 
> I am in no way advocating suicide. Depression is horrible. Suicide is horrible. Neither of them are romantic, they both suck for the person experiencing them and for everyone around them.
> 
> If you are contemplating suicide, please call your national suicide hotline. In the USA, the number is 1-800-273-8255, and and if you live in a different country, please google the local number.


	2. One More Week

After Bodhi found Cassian with the Lullaby pill, Cassian became a lot more open about how he was feeling. Which was good. Bodhi knew it was good. But it was also terrifying. Because now that he wasn’t denying that he wanted to die, Cassian had started trying to justify it.

“I’ve done a lot of things,” he’d tell Bodhi. “Thing’s I’m… not proud of.”

“I know,” Bodhi would respond, and Cassian would cut him off.

“I haven’t told you everything I’ve done. I probably don’t even remember everything I’ve done. There are lives I have taken and I don’t even remember them. What kind of a person am I?”

“A person who gave everything to the Rebellion.”

“If I already gave everything, that means I have nothing left to give.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” This was where Bodhi would start to lose hope.

“I don’t want to live with myself, Bodhi,” Cassian would continue, sometimes looking at the ground, or far off in the distance, sometimes staring, pleadingly, right into Bodhi’s eyes. “In the wartime, I could justify my actions. I could tell myself it was for the greater good, for the future. That if I didn’t do it, someone else would have to, someone who hadn’t already been broken. But that’s over now. We’ve arrived at that future I was fighting for. And I have no place in it.”

“You have a place in _my_ future.”

“You don’t know me, Bodhi. I haven’t told you everything I’ve done.”

And so it went, around and around in circles. The words might vary, or the gestures, or tone of voice. But it all always came back to the same arguments, the same conclusions.

The worst part was that sometimes, Bodhi felt himself slipping. Found himself understanding where Cassian was coming from. Found himself – not agreeing, never agreeing, but – but – well, maybe yes, maybe agreeing just a little. Maybe Cassian _didn’t_ belong in a post-war galaxy.

And if Cassian didn’t belong, where did that leave Bodhi?

 

It was mid-evening, and Jyn had gone outside to spar with Chirrut. Bodhi was cleaning up after a dinner he’d hardly tasted, half-listening to Cassian have that same conversation with Baze. Baze listened to Cassian in silence, letting him make his case. When Cassian finished, Baze simply said, “Give it a week.”

“Excuse me?” Cassian must have been expecting more of an argument, like Bodhi always gave. Something he could fight back against. This tactic must have surprised him. It certainly surprised Bodhi.

“I said give it a week,” Baze repeated calmly. “That’s all I ask. That you wait one standard week before you do anything. Can you promise me that?”

“What possible difference could a week make?” Cassian asked irritably.

“Can you promise?” Baze’s tone never varied.

“Why would I feel any different?” Cassian scowled, and Bodhi’s heart beat faster as he listened more keenly. Baze was getting to him. Was getting _through_ to him.

“Can you promise?”

“You’re trying to trick me, aren’t you?”

“No tricks.” Baze put a hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “You’re stalling, Brother. You don’t want to make that promise. Do you know what this tells me?”

“That I want to die,” Cassian said with exaggerated slowness.

“No.” Baze shook his head a single time, unfazed. “If you’re not willing to promise me one week, this tells me that you’re afraid.”

“You think I can’t last five days?” Cassian spat bitterly. “I can, but it will be torture for all of us.”

“I have no doubt you can last much longer. That’s not what you fear. What you fear is that you’ll change your mind. If you’re not convinced you will feel the same, then you don’t really want to die.”

Bodhi stared at Baze in awe, dirty dishes long forgotten. Baze was brilliant. And right.

“Fine.” Cassian scowled, but his words had lost their heat. “I promise you one week. Now will you stop following me even into the fresher?”

“If you want, Bodhi can take over fresher duty. But then you’ll have to let me watch you sleep.”

Bodhi felt his shoulders clench in irritation. How dare Baze make a joke about the suicide watch? But Cassian just laughed. “I already know you take turns watching me sleep. I see who has bags under their eyes in the morning, and it’s not just Bodhi.”

“Perceptive as always,” Baze smiled. “Let’s make this official. Deal?” He extended his hand, and Cassian grasped it, mirroring his smile

“Deal. But only if you promise not to kiss me goodnight. That’s still reserved for Bodhi.”

Their eyes sparkled as they shook hands, but Bodhi recognized the deep seriousness beneath. He was grateful that Baze had delicately found a way to extract this promise from Cassian, giving them all a short reprieve.

One week. Five days. He wondered what he could do in such a short time to change Cassian’s mind.

 

 

Bodhi set down the basket of wet laundry with a thump. Without a word, he grabbed a shirt from the top of the pile, shook out the wrinkles, and handed it to Cassian, who hung it on the clothesline. They continued in this fashion for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, hardly even looking at each other, the only sounds the loud _thwap_ of shaking out the wet clothing. Then Cassian held out his hand for the next piece, and found nothing. He turned to Bodhi.

“Come with me to Jedha.” Bodhi hoped his nervousness wasn’t obvious, that Cassian couldn’t tell he’d been practicing this very sentence since he’d come outside.

“What, right now?” Cassian laughed, incredulous.

“I’m serious, Cassian. Come with me to Jedha. I haven’t been back since, well… you know when. But they didn’t destroy the whole moon, you know. And I want to see what’s left. I want to see what’s survived.”

“And you want _me_ to come with you?”

“I do. I want you to see where I come from. We can’t visit my city, it’s too late for that. But you can see my moon, and that’s something.”

Cassian shrugged, reaching for a pillowcase and giving it a shake. “If it’s that important to you.” He hung the pillowcase on the line, and Bodhi grabbed the next one from the pile.

“It is.” Bodhi shook the pillowcase and handed it to Cassian.

“Alright then. When do we leave?”

Bodhi was grateful for the chore that gave him an excuse not to look at Cassian. “Give me two weeks, and I’ll get it all organized.”

Cassian stopped hanging clothing. “Two weeks?” Cassian crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed. “You know I only promised Baze one. And that week’s already half-over.”

Bodhi lay a tentative hand on Cassian’s arm, feeling the tensed muscle under a too-worn shirt. “Well, I’m asking you for two more.” He took a deep breath. “This is important to me, Cassian. Please. Do this for me. Just one last thing.”

“You’re asking a lot, you know.”

“I do know.” Bodhi kissed Cassian on the forehead, and felt it relax just the slightest bit at the touch of his lips. “And I’m grateful beyond words.”

“I haven’t said yes yet,” Cassian reminded him.

“Oh.” Bodhi paused, taking a step backward. Maybe now was the time to make a joke, like Baze had done. “I… I don’t really know how to un-kiss you, though.”

“Are you trying to make a joke?”

“Er, yeah. Trying.” He smiled helplessly, hoping his awkwardness would work to his favor.

Cassian smirked. “I suppose it’s the thought that counts.”

“So is that a yes?” Bodhi’s heart was in his throat.

“Yes, it’s a yes. I’ll wait two more weeks, and I’ll go with you to Jedha.”

Bodhi sighed, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Just don’t bother with a return ticket.”

Bodhi nodded, and they went back to hanging the laundry.

Bodhi knew he should be happy. He’d gotten more time, and another chance to convince Cassian. But he knew this battle was far from over. If only it had been as simple as a life-threatening addiction.

He felt a pang, and winced. Cassian didn’t seem to have noticed, and he massaged his side surreptitiously. The pit in his stomach never went away anymore. It grew or it receded, but it was always there. The way Bodhi had thought Cassian would be.


	3. Convinced

In the days leading up to their departure, Bodhi became more and more apprehensive. It started to sink in that this was it, that they really were leaving, that this really was his last chance to save Cassian. As he’d promised, Bodhi only paid for one-way passage. For both of them. He supposed it was a homecoming, of sorts. Either he’d manage to convince Cassian to make a life with him on Jedha, or…

Or he’d let himself become convinced by Cassian.

They flew to Jedha on a commercial transport. Bodhi had his opinions about the pilot, and he was sure Cassian did too, but they passed the journey mostly in silence. How many hours had Bodhi spent in flight over the last ten, fifteen standard years? A childhood spent looking at the stars from the rooftop, and adulthood spent shuttling between them. Would this be his last interstellar flight? The constellations grew familiar as they approached Jedha. He watched the stars, and waited.

When they disembarked on Jedha, Bodhi was surprised to see so many people. And not just humans, either, but people of all species, not to mention droids, speaking more languages than Bodhi had heard since the end of the war. They found an inn on a small street off the main road, dropped off their bags, then took off to wander the city.

There was so much to see, hear, and even smell, it wasn’t hard to avoid conversation. Especially the one conversation Bodhi knew they needed to have, but he wasn’t quite ready for yet. Instead, he concentrated on listening to the different languages, trying to see if he could pick up on a familiar one, other than the obvious Jedhan and Galactic Basic. He thought he caught a snippet of Festian, but by the time he’d recognized the language, the speaker was already out of sight. He glanced at Cassian, but he didn’t seem to have noticed. Bodhi wondered how much he was even taking in.

As crowded as it was, most people ignored Bodhi and Cassian. After all, they were just two more people among so many. But Bodhi did a double-take as they passed a human who looked as though he’d raided Chirrut’s wardrobe, and he made the mistake of making eye contact.

“Would you like to see the Temple?” not-Chirrut asked in Basic.

“The – the Temple?” Bodhi blinked. The Temple had been destroyed. _Everything_ had been destroyed. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to see here, but it wasn’t this.

“Yes, the Kyber Temple. You are newly arrived, aren’t you? Is it your first time here?”

“This man is a charlatan,” Cassian muttered, annoyed. “Let’s go.” He pushed Bodhi along, sarcastically grumbling, “First time.”

A few minutes later, they saw another human, dressed similarly to the imitation Chirrut.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been here, isn’t it?” she asked Bodhi in Jedhan.

“It has,” he replied in kind, a bit dazed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken the language.

The Guardian smiled serenely. “You’re that pilot, aren’t you? The famous pilot, Bodhi Rook?”

“I, uh, I get that a lot, actually.”

“Of course you do.” She smiled again. “Because it’s true. Pity you cut your hair.”

Without thinking, Bodhi reached up to touch his closely cropped hair. He hadn’t worn it long in years.

“Come with me.” She switched to Galactic Basic, now addressing Cassian as well. “I have something marvelous to show you.”

“Let me guess, the Kyber Temple has magically been rebuilt? By the Force?” Cassian sounded bitter, ready to fight. He tugged at Bodhi’s hand again, but Bodhi stood firm.

“Rebuilt by the Force?” She laughed, undeterred by Cassian’s sarcasm. “I suppose you could say that. It _is_ being rebuilt. And you _could_ say that it’s by the Force.”

 “How’s that?” Bodhi asked.

“Let’s go,” Cassian muttered, tugging on Bodhi’s arm. But Bodhi stood firm. Where were they going anyway? What was their hurry?

“Let’s hear her out,” he whispered.

“The Force is what brings us all together, what binds us to each other, no?” The monk gestured at the multi-species crowd around them. “The Force brings pilgrims here, and the pilgrims rebuild the Temple. So, yes, you definitely _could_ say that the Temple is being rebuilt by the Force, and you wouldn’t be wrong.”

“Let’s go,” Cassian repeated.

“Yes,” Bodhi agreed. “Let’s go. Let’s see the Temple.”

Cassian shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Bodhi glanced at the monk, then back at Cassian. “But I grew up here. I feel like I _should_ see the new Temple, just once. And then… And then we can do what we came here to do.”

“We?” Cassian looked at Bodhi, and Bodhi felt like Cassian was actually seeing him for the first time in weeks.

“Yes, we. You’ve convinced me, Cassian. I’m – I’m in.” In fact, Bodhi hadn’t been sure until that moment, but as soon as the words left his lips, he knew that they were true. “But first, let’s see what she has to show us.”

Cassian had turned pale. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know,” Bodhi assured him. “It’s my choice.”

“Right.” Cassian shuddered a single time, then turned to the Jedhan. “Bring us to the Temple. And… no need to hurry.”

 

The Kyber Temple was nothing like Bodhi remembered it. Of course, he reminded himself, it was a completely different temple. The original temple, the one he grew up with, was built by a single ancient culture. This one, while based on the structure of the original, was something entirely new. The architecture was dominated by a mix of ancient and modern Jedhan styles, with aspects of a myriad of cultures that reflected the work of pilgrims from across the galaxy.

“It’s… different,” Bodhi whispered, half to himself. Their guide nodded.

“Of course it is different. Nothing can be what it is not. What was shattered cannot be unshattered, only built anew. We have a practice here, when a piece of pottery breaks…”

Bodhi tuned her out. He knew the story from his youth. When a piece of pottery broke, the Guardians of the Temple would mend it with melted kyber crystal. The result was not pure, like the original, but a new and different kind of beauty. Perfect symmetry replaced by haphazard veins of shimmering phosphorescence. As a child, Bodhi had been fascinated by the line, “It’s the cracks that make it beautiful.” Now, he believed it was a load of bantha crap, mere pretty words to sugar-coat the unbearable finality of destruction.

He glanced at Cassian, and wondered what he was thinking. Cassian still looked too bitter to fit in with the pilgrims that surrounded them, but he’d softened since they’d run into this Guardian. Especially since Bodhi had told him that he was joining him. Cassian seemed lost in thought, only half-listening to the monk, sneaking looks at Bodhi, but always looking away when Bodhi caught him.

That was beauty in the cracks, Bodhi thought. Cassian Andor’s last contemplations. Probably something very deep, and very painful. Or maybe, he was just wondering what they should eat for dinner. Bodhi almost laughed aloud at the thought. Cassian always looked so serious, but surely the mundanities of every-day life must cross his mind from time to time.

Suddenly, a Chikarri came stumbling towards them, faltering under the weight of a huge slab of stone. Bodhi jumped back to avoid being crushed. The Guardian didn’t move. Cassian rushed forward, grabbing the stone without a second thought. The Chikarri looked up, surprised by the sudden loss of weight on her shoulders. “ _Shukran_ ,” she whispered with an accent unfamiliar to Bodhi.

“ _De nada_. I mean, _afwan_.” Cassian’s mouth twitched, although Bodhi wouldn’t have quite called it a smile. He blinked a couple of times, as though coming out of a daze. Then he asked the Chikarri, in surprisingly fluent Jedhan, where she was taking the stone. She pointed to an door half-way across the temple, and told him in halting Jedhan that they were storing building materials there for the time being. Cassian nodded, adjusted the stone slab to lay more evenly on his shoulders, and headed off in the direction she’d pointed. The smaller creature hurried after him, catching up just in time to open the door.

Bodhi watched it all as though through the viewport of a starship. It was a sweet scene. Typical Cassian, rushing to help a stranger, after completely destroying his partner’s heart. Maybe not so sweet. Maybe Bodhi was a little… not bitter, exactly. He couldn’t quite rouse enough emotion to feel bitter. But… disconnected. Done.

Cassian returned with an odd look on his face. He put an arm around Bodhi. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” he whispered, returning to Galactic Basic.

Bodhi shrugged. “It’s nothing like the original. And it’s not even finished. But yes, I suppose it’s beautiful, in it’s own way.” He thought about asking Cassian when he’d learned to speak Jedhan so well, but decided against it.

Cassian squeezed Bodhi’s shoulder, and Bodhi stiffened. “I’m so glad you insisted on coming here.” He looked at the Guardian. “Thank you,” he said almost breathlessly. “You’ve just – I – Thank you. _Shukran._ ”

“ _De nada,_ ” the monk replied with a smile.

Cassian started. _“¿Hablas festiano?”_

The monk shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Festian. I’m just repeating what you said to Lari when she thanked you. We don’t _only_ listen to the Force, you know. But there _are_ other Festianes here. There are peoples from everywhere.” She gave the two a meaningful look, and added, “We are drawn here for many different reasons.”

Cassian nodded seriously. Bodhi, however, couldn’t bring himself to feel one way or another about her. Maybe she was devout, like Chirrut. Maybe she was a charlatan, like the first so-called Guardian they’d met. Bodhi simply didn’t have it in him to care. He felt so light, had felt light since he’d made his decision.

“There is a ritual bath,” the monk continued. “Many pilgrims use it to purify themselves. In times like these, there is a great need for purification.”

“Not everything can be washed away,” Bodhi said sardonically.

“Purification is not the same as washing away,” she replied, unfazed. “Would you like to see the baths?”

“Yes,” Cassian whispered. He turned to Bodhi. “Please. Let’s.”

Bodhi nodded. It would be good to be purified before they died.

 

The ritual baths were not far from the Temple, and the three of them walked the short path in silence. Bodhi tried to remember the last time he’d been there (to the _old_ baths, he reminded himself), but came up empty. He wondered if Bor Gullet had enjoyed consuming that particular memory. Before the baths themselves stood a large building, which the monk explained was basically a giant, multi-roomed fresher.

“You clean yourself _before_ you enter the baths?” Cassian asked.

“Cleaning and purification are not the same thing,” the monk explained. “How would it be if the ritual baths were full of the dirt and sweat of thousands of pilgrims? Before you enter them, you clean your body, wash your clothes, shave or cut hair, shed skin or scales or exoskeletons… whatever it is you require.”

Bodhi noticed that, while some groups of pilgrims were single-species, like their own small group, others were more diverse. The Force really did draw everyone together here, he supposed.

The monk led Bodhi and Cassian into the freshers. She said something to the attendant in a language unfamiliar to Bodhi, and he idly wondered how many languages she spoke. The attendant nodded, and handed them washcloths, soaps, and towels. The monk told them to go ahead, that she would wait for them by the exit.

Cassian objected when Bodhi went to shave. “But your beard is so beautiful!” he protested, sliding a hand down Bodhi’s jaw.

Bodhi laughed, the lightness bubbling up in his chest. “It’s only for a little while, isn’t it? You won’t have to see me clean-shaven for long.” Cassian didn’t return the laugh, and Bodhi gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Lighten up, will you? We’re about to be purified.”

When they had finished with their various ablutions, they met with the monk by the exit, as agreed upon. She had not washed for the baths, and she made no move to exit the building.

“This is where I leave you two,” she told them. “Before I go, though, I have something to give you.” She reached into the pocket of her robe, and drew out two small kyber crystals on thin brown cords.

“Let me guess,” Bodhi joked flippantly. “They’re free for a small donation, right?”

“I’m not asking for a donation,” the monk replied, unfazed as always.

“Of course not.” Bodhi barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

Cassian lay a hand on Bodhi, as though to calm him. Or to quiet him. “I don’t have any credits with me,” Cassian apologized.

“Really, I’m not asking for anything. But please allow me to give you these. I believe you may need them.”

Cassian bowed his head, and allowed the monk to place the necklace on him. After a slight hesitation, Bodhi did the same. He had to admit, he did feel something when she placed it around his neck. _One step closer,_ he told himself.

The monk walked back toward the entrance of the freshers, presumably to return to the temple, or perhaps to the square where they’d met her. Bodhi and Cassian made their way outside. The baths were impressive, bigger than Bodhi remembered. (These weren’t the baths he remembered, he reminded himself. Or would remember, if those memories hadn’t been destroyed.) Huge outdoor pools of clear water gleamed in the sunlight. People of all species were bathing in reverence.

Bodhi took Cassian by the hand and walked slowly to a smallish pool, warmed by the sun. They held hands as they walked in, deeper and deeper, until the water reached half-way up their chests. Then, Bodhi let go suddenly and submerged himself completely, bouncing up effervescently like a child swimming on the beach. He felt purer already. He grinned, and turned to Cassian. Cassian was staring – not quite _at_ Bodhi, but past him.

“Bodhi. I’ve been thinking.”

“Yes?” Bodhi felt at peace for the first time in a long while. This felt right.

“At the Temple.” Cassian paused, and Bodhi waited for him to continue. “I was – I was thinking.”

“So you said. Tell me, Cassian. What were you thinking?”

“I think that… maybe I’ve been rash.”

“Pardon?” Bodhi almost laughed. After all this, after all the pain of the last few weeks, after all the arguments, all the tears, all the sleepless nights – _now_ he thought he might have been rash? But Bodhi didn’t feel anger, only wry amusement. All his anger had been washed away by the purifying waters.

“I just… When I saw that Chikarri, and I, I helped her? I realized…” Cassian shook his head in that way he always did when he was trying to put his emotions into place. “I told you before, I told you there was no place for me in a post-war galaxy. That I don’t fit in with peacetime. But here, where they are still suffering from the war, from its aftereffects… This place was completely destroyed, but they’re building it anew. And I think that I can help.”

“So you’re converting to the faith?” Bodhi smirked. “You’re going to become a monk, now, aren’t you? A Guardian of the Whills?”

Cassian shook his head again. “No, I just mean physical labor. I’m no good, Bodhi, I know that. I don’t have enough of a soul left to be a monk, and even if I did, I don’t believe. But I can help rebuild, in a literal sense. I can be useful. And maybe… maybe that’s enough.”

“And that’s what you want? For the rest of your life?”

Cassian shrugged. “Things will never come out even, Bodhi. I know that. But at least my body isn’t completely broken yet, and this is one thing I can still do. Do you understand?”

“I do.” Bodhi closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the perfect temperature of the water, the perfect buoyancy, the perfect warmth of the perfect sun. He was pure, now. He and Cassian both. Purified to start a new life, and to end an old one.

 

After the baths, they returned to the inn, hair still wet and spirits still high. Back in their room, Bodhi unpacked a pure unbleached kaftan, undyed and unembroidered, from his bag. He began to undress, carefully folding each piece of clothing after he took it off, and stood for a moment completely naked except for the kyber necklace. Then he put on the kaftan.

“It’s beautiful,” Cassian breathed.

“Thank you.” Bodhi began to comb his hair.

“ _You’re_ beautiful.”

Bodhi set down the comb and smiled. He kissed Cassian on the lips. He meant it to be a chaste kiss, but Cassian slipped his tongue in Bodhi’s mouth, and Bodhi went with it. If he was going to get one last kiss, it might as well be a good one. He pulled away, grinning.

“Goodbye,” he said.

“Good – wait, what?” Cassian frowned. “You meant ‘good _night,_ ’ right?”

“No, I meant good-bye.” Bodhi picked up the comb again and finished combing his hair.

“But –” Cassian’s eyes shone with confusion. “But in the baths. We decided.”

Bodhi placed the comb on the dresser. “No, Cassian. _We_ didn’t decide. _You_ decided. And I respect your decision. I just happen to be making a different one.”

Bodhi watched the realization dawn on Cassian’s face. “The kaftan…”

“It’s how my people are buried. I won’t get an official burial, of course. But it feels right, all the same.”

“You can’t do this,” Cassian whispered.

“Cassian,” Bodhi said gently. He should feel angry, he _knew_ he should feel angry, but all he could feel was amused. And light, so very light, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “This is what we came here for, isn’t it? You’ve found something else, and I’m happy for you. But I’m still going through with it.” He paused, then added, “We can kiss one more time, if you’d like.”

Cassian’s face hardened. “You can’t do this,” he repeated tonelessly. “You – you just can’t. Bodhi. Please.”

Bodhi laughed. He couldn’t help it. “I love you, Cassian. You’ve been so good to me. Thank you for coming with me to Jedha. This was right. This _is_ right. I’ve loved you, Cassian, and I’m so glad you have a new path ahead of you.” There was a buzzing in his ears, and it sounded like music. He thought he heard Cassian speak, probably repeating the same old words, but the buzzing was too loud to hear him. Bodhi walked away without a backward glance.

He didn’t make it to the door.

“Stop!” Cassian shouted, tugging Bodhi by the arm.

Bodhi turned to him, concerned. “Cassian, are you alright?”

“I – No, Bodhi, I’m _not_ alright! You can’t – What are you planning to do, anyway?”

“I was thinking of drowning myself. It seems symbolic, somehow, dying in water.”

“You’d pollute a drinking source. On a desert moon. Is that really what you want to do?”

“No,” Bodhi mused, “I suppose not. Maybe I’ll just wander off somewhere and fall asleep. It gets cold at night, I’d just die of hypothermia.” Bodhi smiled serenely. “And then when someone finds me, they’ll probably just think it was an accident, so it won’t be too traumatic.”

“I’m coming with you,” Cassian insisted.

Bodhi shook his head. “We should say our goodbyes here.”

“I want to stay with you until the end.”

“Cassian, mi amor, I love you. But I don’t trust you. Goodbye.”

Cassian blinked, tears shining bright in his eyes. Bodhi wished he could see Cassian smile one more time before he went. But this was alright, too. Cassian was beautiful as he wept.

 

 

The words died in Cassian’s mouth. There was no way to convince Bodhi. The way his eyes shone with that faraway look, the otherworldly tone his voice had taken – he was too far gone for Cassian to reach him.

He wept as Bodhi left him, but he planned as he wept. He was a spy, after all. A spy, an assassin, and a saboteur. Bodhi would get a head-start while Cassian procured what he needed, but it was his only chance.

Cassian was glad he’d kept up with his Jedhan all these years, even after he and Bodhi had broken up. This made it easier to buy the dart rifle and the knock-out darts. He closed his eyes as he left the small shop of dubious legality, and prayed for something, anything, to tell him which way Bodhi had gone. He couldn’t quite explain it, but something, a brightness, seemed to call him in a certain direction, and he followed it.

Soon, he was away from the city, out in the dunes. He closed his eyes again. Which way? He felt the brightness again, and took out his nightview quadnocs. Sure enough, he saw a solitary figure in the distance, although he was too far away to positively identify as Bodhi. Fortunately, the figure was in no hurry, so Cassian could get closer if he ran. After a few minutes, he checked again. He could see now, by the pure unbleached kaftan and the gentle unhurried gait, that this must be Bodhi. Cassian dropped to one knee, balancing his dart gun on the other, took aim, and shot. Bodhi went down, and Cassian ran after him.

 

 

Bodhi awoke in the dark. He was in a cave, in the catacombs. He could smell it, could smell the sand, smell Jedha, that distinctive smell he would never forget, the smell of the desert. _His_ desert.

He was unbound. He could escape. He _had to_ escape, before they brought him to Bor Gullet and took away his mind.

Bodhi tried to look around, but it was too dark to make anything out. So he listened. He could hear the breathing of one other person – probably a human, by the sound of it. A fellow prisoner? His captor? Saw Gerrera himself? What did Saw Gerrera look like, anyway? He both knew and didn’t know. An image flashed in his head of a dying old man, half-machine already. Or was Saw Gerrera a tognath? They both seemed equally plausible.

Was the other person sleeping? No. His breathing was too irregular. But at least Bodhi had the benefit of surprise – and he besides, might not get another chance. He leapt out of bed (why was he in a bed?), but was grabbed before he made it to the door.

“Bodhi, wait! It’s me, Cassian!”

Cassian? The name sounded familiar, but Bodhi couldn’t quite place it. “I have a message,” he whispered urgently. “Let me go, I need to get to Saw Gerrera! I need to deliver the message!”

There was a moment of silence. Then the man (Cassian? Why did that name make Bodhi feel so light, so light? Like air, that name. Like cold night air, like starlight.) whispered, “You’re the pilot, right?”

Yes, that was right. “I’m the pilot,” he confirmed. “I’m Bodhi, Bodhi Rook. I’m the pilot, and I have a message. It’s urgent! They’re going to destroy NiJedha. Or maybe they already have, I don’t know, but I have to tell him! It’s… it’s probably too late, but there might still be time!”

“You gave him the message, Bodhi,” the man assured him. “You gave him the message. And Jyn saw it too. Jyn Erso.”

“Erso…”

“Yes, Galen’s daughter. You gave her the message, and we got the plans, and they destroyed the Death Star. And the war is over, now. It’s over, and we won. Because of you. Because you gave us the message.”

“I – I already gave the message? But I – I have to see Saw Gerrera, the crusty old bastard, he tortured me, did you know that? That he… Why did Galen send me to Gerrera? Did he want me dead?”

“He never wanted you dead, Bodhi.”

“Well I wanted _him_ dead, when they tortured me. Why didn’t he go himself? But he sent me in his place. Young, rankless, Jedhan. He knew no one would miss me. Especially after they destroyed my whole city. No one left to miss me, right? Convenient.”

 “ _I_ would miss you.”

“You won’t have the chance. I came too late, and they destroyed the whole city. I think we died in those caves.”

“We didn’t die. We got out, and went on to fight the war. We’re back now, back on Jedha. They’re rebuilding the Kyber Temple, remember? Rebuilding the city. And we’re going to help.”

Suddenly, everything came back to Bodhi in a rush. He remembered returning to Cassian. Returning to Jedha. Walking through the New City. The Temple. The ritual baths. The kaftan. The walk. And then – that’s where the memories stopped abruptly.

“I _am_ dead,” he said, with wonder. “I had hoped that death would be less confusing. I had hoped it wouldn’t be anything at all.”

“You’re not dead, Bodhi.”

“But I died,” he insisted. “I went out to the desert, and I fell asleep…”

“You never fell asleep,” Cassian interrupted. “I – I drugged you.” At least he had the decency to sound ashamed.

“You _what_?” Bodhi could feel the anger rising in him.

“I’m sorry, Bodhi, but there was no other way! You were so set on killing yourself, no words would reach you. So I did the only think I could think of. I followed you to the desert, and I knocked you out with a dart. Then I took you back here, to the inn.”

Bodhi was glad he couldn’t see Cassian’s face, because he would have punched it. “You stopped me,” he said tonelessly.

“Of course.”

Bodhi felt Cassian’s hand on his cheek, and he flinched away. “After all the times I tried to stop you. But it was never enough. _I_ was never enough. And you thought _you_ could be enough for me? _How dare you?_ ”

“I love you,” Cassian said simply.

Bodhi sneered. “And what makes you think that’s enough? What makes you think you’re so much better than me?”

“Oh, Bodhi, I know I’m not better than you,” Cassian said softly. “We both know I’m not better than anyone.”

Bodhi laughed ruefully. “Oh, but you are, Cassian. Because _I_ could never convince you to live, but _you_ think you’re good enough to convince me.”

“You think you didn’t convince me to live? You brought me here. I’m convinced.”

Cassian held Bodhi in his arms, and Bodhi let him. He felt all the anger go out of him. All the anger, all the fear, the despair, the numbness disguised as lightness.

“I convinced you?” he asked, almost meekly.

“You did,” Cassian confirmed, laying his head on Bodhi’s shoulder. Bodhi could hardly understand him, his voice was so shaky. But he hung on to every word. “Let’s rebuild, love. Together.”

Tears trickled down Bodhi’s cheeks, and he felt tired, so very tired. “Alright,” he whispered. “Let’s rebuild. You’ve convinced me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The burial kaftan is based on how my people are traditionally buried in plain white burial shrouds.


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original note:
> 
> There are a number of other scenes I've got planned out, but I didn't want to weigh this story down too much, so I'm ending it with this epilogue. The other stuff will be in a separate fic. There may or may not be a call-back to "Crush." Feel free to leave requests in the comments, or in the comments of the drabbles piece once I post it.
> 
> Edited note: So, yeah, I have clearly written other fics for this story. The offer for requests still stands. August 2018

Bodhi poured oil onto his hands to massage Cassian’s back, as he did every night. While Cassian had always kept himself in top form as a soldier, the physical labor of rebuilding the Kyber Temple had put a particular strain on his back, and the pain was more or less constant now. He was careful with himself now, carrying lighter loads, finding less physically-demanding tasks. Bodhi sometimes wished that Cassian had been this careful when he’d started working on the temple, but he understood that it just wasn’t Cassian’s way.

Rebuilding the temple was not for Bodhi, but he’d found that the demand for ship repair on a site of pilgrimage would always exceed the supply. The work was satisfying, enough of a challenge to stay interesting, and a good way to keep current both in technological advances and galactic news. It was too his advantage that he was already fluent in both Jedhan and Galactic Basic, and he picked up a handful of other languages over the years. Including, of all things, Festian.

How lucky Bodhi felt, to have lived long enough to see Cassian to go grey and to see his own hair start to thin. He would never have guessed that lean, angular Cassian would grow chubby. But the roundness suited him, accentuating his already perfect cheekbones, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled, not to mention those adorable dimples. Cassian blamed Bodhi, claiming he was too good a cook for his own good, or for Cassian’s own good. Bodhi could live with that.

For a while, they stayed in sporadic contact with Jyn, Baze and Chirrut, as well as Cassian’s old friend Gael, with whom Cassian had reconnected early on in the war. But their communication had grown sparser, and their circle of friends on Jedha had remained small. Bodhi didn’t mind. It was simpler that way.

About a year into their new life on Jedha, Bodhi had stumbled upon his older cousin, Hardik. Hardik and his kids and partner had been off in the mountains the day NiJedha was destroyed. He and Bodhi became close again, and either Bodhi and Cassian ate at his place, or he and his family at theirs, at least once every week or two.

Cassian and Bodhi never had children. They had briefly considered adopting, but decided against it. They’d learned to deal with their own nightmares, and each others, but they didn’t want to inflict them upon their potential children. For a while (longer than he’d like to admit), Bodhi also worried about their child coming home one day to find they had one father fewer – or worse, discovering the body. By the time he stopped worrying about suicide, his own or Cassian’s, he’d already become resigned to the fact that he was not fit to be a father, and that Cassian was even less so. At least they had Hardik’s children in their lives, and Cassian was surprisingly popular with the young children of his fellow pilgrims.

The biggest surprise for Bodhi had been Cassian’s growing faith. Cassian was convinced that the Force had helped him find Bodhi that fateful night, one kyber crystal calling out to the other. Bodhi didn’t remember that night very well, and had made no effort to resurface what memories remained, so he couldn’t say one way or the other. But faith seemed to ground Cassian, in ways the rebellion never had.

Cassian had begun to meet with Franchesca, the monk who had taken them to the temple and the ritual baths. The talks seemed to help. He’d tried to convince Bodhi to talk with her as well, but Bodhi had opted for a more traditional psychologist instead. For a while, he’d teased Cassian that they were turning into Baze and Chirrut. But he came to realize that faith was no longer a joke to Cassian, and he let it rest.

Something between a sigh and a groan brought Bodhi back to the present moment. He pulled back, working Cassian’s back more lightly, but Cassian made another little grunt. “Don’t let up,” he said softly. “It feels better after you work out the soreness.”

“Cassian,” Bodhi sighed, “why did you ruin your back for the Kyber Temple? You could have been more careful from the beginning.”

“I don’t think I could have,” Cassian replied with a helpless laugh, cut off with a sharp intake of breath as Bodhi began to knead his back again. “I think when I started, I needed to pour everything in, all the time, just to justify my presence and keep myself from despairing. Anyhow, the pain’s not really so bad, and I rest a little easier knowing I did at least one thing right.”

Bodhi kissed Cassian’s shoulder blade to make up for the kneading. “You could have done just a little bit less, though. Like, 80% as much.”

“I didn’t want to do something 80% right.” Cassian shifted to his side so he could look at Bodhi. “You can stop massaging me, if you want. It already feels much better.”

“No, I don’t want to stop,” Bodhi replied, gently shifting Cassian back onto his stomach, and taking up again. “I like giving you massages. I just wish you didn’t need them so much.” Bodhi ran his fingers lightly over Cassian’s back, sending a satisfying shiver up his spine.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you, Bodhi?” Cassian murmured.

“Yes,” Bodhi smiled. Loving Cassian wasn’t easy, but it was certainly rewarding. “But feel free to tell me again.”

 

“Captain.” Cassian thought he heard a familiar voice, although it was hard to tell, there were so many voices in the crowded square. He heard it again, closer, and he realized the person was talking to him. He _had_ been a captain. He’d forgotten.

And suddenly before him stood Chirrut Îmwe, older, a bit hunched, but with the same innocent-seeming smile. And of course, beside him, the hulking figure of Baze Malbus.

“Chirrut!” Cassian exclaimed, embracing his old friend. “How did you recognize me?” he asked in slightly festian-inflected Jedhan.

“Captain Andor? Is that you?” Baze’s eyes widened incredulously. Cassian had now spent long enough on Jedha to realize that Baze, Chirrut, and Bodhi all spoke Jedhan with slightly different accents.

“You look different, don’t you?” Chirrut asked.

“How did you know?”

“Because Baze didn’t recognize you. But your voice is the same. And your presence – it isn’t quite the same as when we last saw each other, I am happy to say. But there is something constant.”

“You – you’ve become…” Baze sputtered.

“I’m not a monk, if that’s what you’re wondering. These are pilgrim robes.”

“How long have you been living here?” Baze asked.

“Since we left you and Jyn out in the Outer Rim, some five or ten years ago. I don’t know exactly, I lose track of the years.”

“And you still wear pilgrim robes?” Baze raised an eyebrow.

“It just makes sense to me, somehow.”

“And the kyber crystal?” Chirrut asked. Baze’s eyes widened again.

“You wouldn’t think I’d become a believer, would you? This necklace is what brought about my faith. It saved two lives.”

“Where is the other one?” Chirrut asked, smiling.

“In the marketplace, I suppose. You should come for dinner. He’s a very good cook.”

“I’d guessed,” Baze commented sardonically. This earned him a whack from Chirrut’s walking stick. But Cassian just laughed it off.

“You try staying thin when your partner cooks as well as Bodhi does.”

“Fortunately, I don’t have that problem,” Chirrut smiled. Which earned him a whack from Baze.

Baze turned back to Cassian. “I accept, we’ll come for dinner. I want to see if I can still beat Bodhi at Sabacc.”

“Let me give you a tour of the Temple first. I can show you the parts I helped build, before my back gave out.”

Cassian reached for his own walking stick, and led them off, ignoring yet another surprised look from Baze. He might not be in the same physical shape they’d always known him to be in, but he felt much healthier now. Let the Temple take his body, for it had returned to him his soul. And his heart.

Which waited for him in the marketplace.


End file.
